


you remind me of home

by firedragonworks (firedragon32)



Series: Six Strings of Fate: An ATLA Modern AU [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang is Pure, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), Dance Instructor Aang, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gaang (Avatar) as Family, Gen, Gyatso and Iroh are adopted brothers, Gyatso and Iroh own a bakery/teashop, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kataang if you squint, Katara and Suki are Tired ParentsTM, Kinda, Light Angst, Motorcyclist Suki, Motorcyclist Zuko, Past Character Death, Platonic Soulmates, Sokka is a crackhead, Texting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Toph is a gremlin, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, aang and zuko are unofficially adopted siblings, and I am here for it, and also a gremlin, because this is Zuko we're talking about here, but we love him anyway, goodness this has everything doesn't it, it's in the past and it's very lowkey, mentions of drug overdose, shenanigans ensue, the gaang has so much chaotic energy, this is mostly friendship-focused so romance is all low-key, zukka if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28269210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firedragon32/pseuds/firedragonworks
Summary: The Jasmine Dragon: a popular tea shop and café located near Kyoshi University, run by two close friends, Gyatso and Iroh. Aang, Gyatso's nephew, is a part-time dance instructor at Flameo Dance Studio. His good friend, Zuko, is a motorcyclist who is gunning for the top spot in the national motocross competition. Enter siblings Katara and Sokka, the former studying to become a nurse, and the latter to be a robotics engineer; Suki, captain of the Kyoshi Warriors, an all-girl martial arts team, and Toph Beifong, the daughter of a rich politician aiming to be an MMA fighter. When these diverging paths cross, an unlikely bond is forged, and their lives are changed forever as these broken strangers learn to find home in each other.
Relationships: Aang & Gyatso (Avatar), Aang & Toph Beifong & Katara & Sokka & Suki & Zuko, Gyatso & Iroh (Avatar), Iroh & The Gaang (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Six Strings of Fate: An ATLA Modern AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082918
Comments: 13
Kudos: 39





	you remind me of home

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @love-at-the-fair on Tumblr for the ATLA New Year Gift Exchange! This is my first time doing a prompt like this, so I hope you like it!!
> 
> I've put together a [playlist](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLEJXuzcRLpH7s3vzi0sxskyePPDkB8blz) for the vibes of this au!
> 
> The title was taken from Ben Gibbard's song by the same name ;)
> 
> Me: *side-eyes my other atla fic, which is almost pure angst*  
> Me: *side-eyes this, which is almost pure fluff*
> 
> I really only have two modes, don't I?

_Real friendship, like real poetry, is rare--and precious as a pearl._

_\--Tahar Ben Jelloun_

* * *

**The Before**

* * *

The Jasmine Dragon was without a doubt the most popular cafe and tea shop on this side of the country. It was especially popular among the students of Kyoshi University, the campus of which was only a few blocks away. The closeness of the establishment to campus, the friendly, open atmosphere, and the sheer quality of The Jasmine Dragon’s tea and pastries made the shop a popular place to meet friends or study for tests and exams.

The shop and cafe were run by two brothers, men by the name of Iroh and Gyatso. Nobody knew how the two had first met; it was clear they were adopted brothers, but nobody knew the circumstances behind this; but all of the shop’s regulars knew and liked them both. Iroh was the best tea brewer on this side of the mountains, and he was friendly and always willing to chat. More often than not, Iroh would offer up wisdom for patrons, often students, who were struggling with the heavy burdens of life. They would leave the cafe warmed from the tea and uplifted from Iroh’s words.

Where Iroh was all soothing calm and gentle wisdom, Gyatso was energetic and playful, with a mischievous streak a mile wide. He consistently pranked Iroh and the shop employees, in increasingly complex ways that more often than not bordered on the legendary, particularly among the student customers; the Tibetan man was at least as old as Iroh, but that did nothing to subdue his playful antics.

It was here at this shop where a home was built, from the sweat and dreams of two brothers in all but blood.

It was here at this shop where a boy, abandoned and scorned by his own blood, and all but thrown from his home, found a new family.

It was here at this shop where a girl, desperately missing her mother and struggling to find some semblance of normalcy, found stability and love.

It was here at this shop where a boy, nameless and unknown, found the home he never had.

It was here at this shop where a girl whose strength and tenacity went unnoticed for too long found her place, with the people who never let her down like her parents did.

It was here at this shop where a boy who never belonged, who fought to stand strong for his sister even as he himself fell apart, realized that he didn’t need to stand alone.

It was here at this shop where a girl who lost everything came to realize that she had found something more.

It was here at this shop where six strings came together, crossing each other’s paths in the most unlikely of ways. The Rejected, The Abandoned, The Forgotten, The Unseen, The Lost, and The Survivor. Six lives, six people, six souls, all interwoven in the endless tapestry of fate.

* * *

**The Forgotten**

* * *

Mornings in the Jasmine Dragon apartment were not exactly what one would call “conventional.” They were chaotic and rushed, with the inhabitants preparing for the day at the cafe or their college classes. It was what came from having two sets of best friends living in the same home.

Of course, Aang loved his roommates. Iroh was practically a surrogate uncle, and Gyatso was Aang’s foster father of more than five years. Zuko was his brother in pretty much everything except blood, and, despite his quiet demeanor and less-than-pleasant past, was kind and sweet, if somewhat awkward.

Their apartment was simple and humble, with two bedrooms and a small kitchen. The cafe and tea shop were on the first floor, and a staircase in the backroom led up to their kitchen and living area. Another set of stairs led to the bedrooms and bathrooms on the very top floor. Aang and Zuko’s bedroom was small, with two twin beds pushed against opposite walls and tall windows overlooking the busy street three stories below. On Aang’s side of the room, the walls were decorated with posters of Aang’s favorite dancers and movies, also scattered with photographs of himself with his roommate and uncles. Zuko’s side was sparse, with very few personal decorations, but he did have a few autographed posters of famous motorcyclists. Right by the head of the bed was a photograph of him and Iroh. The picture was grainy and slightly blurred, but Aang knew it was one of Zuko’s most prized possessions.

The boy in question was nowhere to be found; his covers were rumpled, as though he had made his bed but hadn’t bothered to smooth down the wrinkles. For as long as Aang had known him, Zuko had always risen and fallen with the sun: out cold by sundown, and up and about by the time the sun crested the distant mountains. Aang’s own bed was a mess of sheets and comforters hanging off the mattress; he rarely bothered making his bed if he was just going to sleep in it again the next night.

Aang shoved his head through his favorite yellow shirt, throwing on a baggy orange hoodie over that. He laced up his boots and shouldered his bag, marching to the door. He had to head over to the dance studio to work out a routine with his partner, Katara. They were aiming to go to regionals this year, perhaps even nationals, and so they were both working tirelessly to perfect their dance routine.

Poor Katara was trying to balance practice with her schooling; she was training to be a nurse, and so her classes were rigorous. Aang helped all he could, but medical training was something he did _not_ have, and so there was only so much he could do.

Aang darted down the stairs to the ground level, snagging an older pastry for breakfast, then stepping out of the backroom and into the main area of the cafe.

It was a wide, open, airy space, with tall windows casting plenty of natural light on the room within. Low couches and tables were spaced throughout the large cafe, with a cluster of sofas on one end and even a few giant beanbags spread throughout. On one side of the room was the tea bar, where Iroh usually worked. It was a low counter with various teapots and ingredients neatly arranged on shelves behind. Gyatso’s workplace, on the other end, was a series of glass cases displaying his freshest pastries and cookies.

As always, there were a few dozen customers spread throughout, lounging on beanbags or couches and sipping cups of tea or mugs of hot cocoa.

Zuko was behind the counter of the tea bar, assisting his uncle with the morning rush. His long silky hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, his striking golden eyes turning to fire in the morning sun. His scar was on full display, but nobody said anything about it; in the first few weeks of Zuko living there and working behind the counter, people had stared. Poor Zuko had hated the attention, especially toward such a painful memory, and so they had all been relieved when the regulars had grown used to it. Sometimes new people came in, but most of their customers knew Zuko, and so weren’t thrown off by his burn scar. Nobody asked where he had gotten such a horrible burn, and Zuko didn’t offer the information.

Aang, Iroh, and Gyatso were the only people in this town who knew how he had gotten the scar. And they were all comfortable with it staying that way.

Aang shuddered every time he thought of it; he wasn’t a violent or hateful person by any means, but he would have liked to have a few words with Zuko’s father about his parenting skills. Or lack thereof.

Gyatso’s cheerful voice brought Aang from his thoughts. The older man was just coming from the cafe kitchens, holding aloft a tray of fresh pastries. The smell was incredible.

“Where are you off to, Aang? I thought you had an open day today. No classes."

“Yeah, I do,” Aang said, stepping forward to help Gyatso with the heavy tray. “I was just heading to the studio so Katara and I could practice.”

“Indeed?” Gyatso wiggled his enormous eyebrows as he slid the fresh pastries alongside the others in the display case. “When will I meet this Katara? I’ve already heard so much about her, it’s as if I know her already!”

Aang felt his ears burn. “W-What’s that supposed to mean?” he spluttered, his cheeks growing even redder as Gyatso appeared more and more amused.

The man just beamed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gyatso said cheerfully, turning away to tend to a group of customers.

Aang sighed, adjusted his grip on his bag, and made his way across the cafe to Iroh and Zuko. He’d gotten into the habit of saying goodbye to his little family whenever he left the cafe. 

“Good morning, Aang!” Iroh called from where he was brewing up another batch of tea. The steam filled the air with the sharp scent of tea leaves. At the sound of the other boy’s name, Zuko glanced up, lifting a hand in a wave before going back to taking orders at the cash register.

“Hey, Iroh,” Aang said, returning the older man’s wave. “I was just heading out to the studio to practice. Is there anything I need to do before I go?”

Iroh tapped his chin, considering. “I don't believe there is.... though, now that I think of it, we haven't had very many guests come to our home as of late. Perhaps you could invite your dance partner here? I have been wanting to meet her for a very long time, you know!”

Aang sighed. “Gyatso said the same thing. Do you guys really want to meet my friend so badly?”

Iroh smiled kindly. “I would love to meet anyone who calls themself your friend, Aang.” The man brightened. “We could bring over Zuko’s friend from motorcycle racing, as well! I will tell Zuko to ask her to come.”

Aang tilted his head, considering. He had met Suki before, though only in passing; from what he knew of her, though, the motorcyclist would get along well with Katara.

“That actually sounds like a great idea,” he said, grinning and turning to go. “I’ll talk to Katara and see when she’s free.”

Iroh smiled again; the guy never seemed to stop smiling. "Tell her we all said hello!"

"I will!" Aang left with one more wave, exiting the warm building to the cold morning beyond.

It was a beautiful day; the air was crisp, smelling of spring while still clinging to the chill of winter. The snow was all but gone, and the trees were beginning to bud. The sky was a clear, clear blue, dotted with fluffy clouds. Aang slipped in his earbuds as he headed in the direction of the dance studio, enjoying the warmth of the sun that combated the chill of the air.

The city was already bustling; buses and cars filled the roadways with a gentle hum of activity; here and there, motorcycles wove through the larger vehicles with ease. Shops were opening up and down the streets, the wonderful smells of baking bread and steaming coffee filling the air.

On a whim, Aang slipped inside one of the coffee shops, the White Lotus. He and his roommates were all good friends with the owners of this particular shop, particularly Iroh, who had apparently worked with them once upon a time.

Aang was pleased to see Bumi working the register. What the old man lacked in hearing, he made up for tenfold by enthusiasm and mischief. He and Gyatso often conspired against their friends, much to everyone’s dismay. They were essentially the Fred and George of Aang’s circle of friends.

“Bonzu Pippinpaddleopsicopolis!” Bumi proclaimed, leaning over the register to peer at Aang. “What brings you here?”

Aang beamed at the old man. He had Bumi convinced that his name was that hilariously long and complex moniker. For all he knew, the old shop owner still had no idea.

“I’m just picking up some cocoa on my way to the studio,” he explained. It had become a habit, bringing a treat for both himself and his dance partner. On the days where they had both stayed up late studying, it was coffee. Every other time, it was cocoa.

Aang had memorized Katara’s favorite order; milk chocolate with a hint of mint and a dollop of whipped cream on top. He got himself a dark chocolate with cream and chocolate chips.

Bumi relayed Aang’s order over his shoulder to Piandao, a kindly older man who waved to Aang before heading into the backroom to gather ingredients.

Aang left the White Lotus with a steaming cup of hot cocoa in each hand. The drinks were hot, but by the time he had reached the front doors of the studio they had cooled down considerably.

Aang gazed up at the studio, his eyes lingering on the brightly colored words on the sign.

Flameo Dance Academy was one of the few dance studios left in the area, but it was one of the best. Aang was an instructor there; Katara as well, when she wasn’t in school. Dance classes didn’t start for another several months, and so in the meantime the studio was used as a practice space for all the dancers aiming for a spot in the regional competition. Including Aang and Katara.

Aang pushed the doors open with his forearms and stepped inside. It was warm inside the studio, pleasantly so. The foyer was relatively empty, only a few people around, all college age. Aang made his way to his and Katara’s practice room, maneuvering around the small clusters of people.

Individual practice rooms, where people doing solo routines rehearsed, were on the third and fourth floors. Double and group practice rooms were on the lower two floors, kept separate because they were usually at least twice the size of the individual practice rooms.

The room that Aang and Katara always used was Room 6-A, clear at the end of the hall. The door was open a crack, and the lights were on. Aang could hear quiet music playing. He knocked twice on the door with his elbow before gently nudging it open with his foot.

Katara was already there. She was standing at the edge of the room, her toes propped up against the wall as she leaned forward, stretching out her calves. Her phone was already plugged into the speakers, cycling through her warm-up playlist.

At Aang’s entry, she turned, grinning at him. Her long, wavy chocolate hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a sleeveless blue tunic and silver leggings. Her feet were bare.

Aang toed off his shoes and offered her a cup of cocoa as she straightened and stepped back from the wall. She accepted it with thanks, and they sipped in comfortable silence.

It wasn’t long before they both finished, and they began to stretch together. Aang shed his orange hoodie, leaving him in his golden yellow shirt.

They sat across from each other on the wooden studio floor, their feet pressed together and Katara’s hands in his as he leaned back, pulling her forward. She was insanely flexible; they both were, really. No dancer remained stiff for long.

It was a casual rehearsal; they were still working on the specifics of the choreography, and so these rehearsals were more for gaining muscle memory on the moves they knew would be incorporated. As time went on and the regional qualifier approached, they would train and rehearse more vigorously.

They worked through the routine that they knew so far, going over the steps again and again to ingrain them into memory. They were leading each other through a series of complicated footwork when Aang asked the question.

“Do you wanna come over sometime?”

Katara blinked at him, not missing a step or skipping a beat despite her obvious surprise.

Aang rushed on. “Iroh and Gyatso want to meet my dance partner so they can cheer for us at regionals, and Zuko’s probably bringing over his friend from motorbike racing, so we can make it a little party. Among friends, you know?”

Katara hummed as she fell onto her knees for a graceful spin. “When would this be happening? I do have a test to study for, but if I cram I should be able to get it done quickly.”

Aang shrugged. “I was thinking maybe tomorrow evening, after we rehearse. Will that work?”

Katara finished the twirl, rising to her feet in one fluid motion. “Yeah, I think I can make it. As long as _you_ can finish our choreography.” Her tone was light and playful as she disconnected her phone from the speaker, their rehearsal time over. “I may be an excellent dancer, but that doesn’t matter if you don’t get the choreography figured out!”

Aang laughed as he gathered his things, throwing his orange hoodie over his head.

They called out goodbyes, Katara heading to her car to drive to campus for a class, and Aang heading back to the Jasmine Dragon. Back home.

He hadn’t always had this. A home, a group of people to call family, a dance partner who he considered a close friend. Aang had been in the foster system for as long as he could remember. He didn’t even know who his birth parents were, nor did he had any way to find out. Anything short of sending his DNA to scientists who could _maybe_ figure out where he came from. But that was expensive, and it wasn’t as if Aang, a college student, had money to spare.

For his entire childhood, Aang was bounced from home to home, never staying in one place for more than a year. Maximum. Then, when he was twelve, he somehow made his way to Gyatso. The older man had taken Aang in, cheerfully and seamlessly merging the boy into his life with ease. It wasn’t long before Aang was desperate to stay. And stay he did.

It didn’t matter much that Aang didn’t know his birth parents. Of course, a small part of him would always wonder. What kind of people were they? What were their names? What did they look like?

Why did they give him up?

There were times when Aang felt as if he were alone; he stood on the stage, surrounded by people who saw him but yet seemed to see _through_ him. As if he were a spirit, a ghost. Nameless and forgotten, with more questions than he had answers.

Now, though, Aang didn’t quite feel that way. Not anymore. He had Gyatso. He had Iroh and Zuko and Katara. He didn’t have much, but he had everything he wanted.

With a spring in his step and a warm feeling in his chest, Aang walked toward home.

* * *

**The Abandoned**

* * *

Katara sighed. The very day she was supposed to meet Aang and his family at their cafe, her brother had needed a place to crash. Unfortunately, Katara had to stay home with him because she couldn’t, in good conscience, let Sokka roam her apartment without supervision. Katara’s roommate was training to be an MMA fighter; if she thought Sokka was a burglar, she would snap him in half with her bare hands.

As annoying as he was sometimes, Katara didn’t think he was _that_ annoying. Not enough to warrant being beat to a pulp by a tiny buff girl.

She’d been looking forward to meeting Aang and some of his friends; he absolutely adored Gyatso and Iroh, and he and Zuko were practically brothers.

Katara’s phone screen lit up with a message, Sokka’s name flashing at the top.

**MeatAndSarcasm:** its ok if u cant help me out

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** i know youre busy

Katara hesitated before typing out a reply.

**waterdropletKat:** its ok. really. I can always just go over to aang’s another time

Sokka’s response came almost immediately.

**MeatAndSarcasm:** i know you were excited for this. I dont want to make it so you cant see your friend

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** “friend”

**waterdropletKat:** first of all, we’re JUST dance partners. nothing else.

 **waterdropletKat:** secondly, ur my brother.

 **waterdropletKat:** as obnoxious as you can be, i still want to help you

**MeatAndSarcasm:** awww i’m tearing up

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** but seriously. I can just hang at your apartment while you’re having fun. no reason that you have to stay and babysit little ol’ me

**waterdropletKat:** its not babysitting, its bodyguarding. i’m not kidding when I say that my roommate can and will break every bone in your body

 **waterdropletKat:** she wont get home until after i need to be gone, so i dont have a chance to warn her that youll be here. she’ll think youre a burglar and youll end up at the hospital

 **waterdropletKat:** if not the mortuary

**MeatAndSarcasm:** ………….i think i wont hang at your apartment while you’re gone

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** i quite like my bones where they are

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** your roommate sounds terrifying

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** wait, couldnt you just text her? Tell her im going to be here

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** wait she’s blind, isnt she. I forgot. Of course you cant text her

**waterdropletKat:** its not because she's blind. there are text-to-speech settings and the like for that reason. she broke her phone and wont have one for another week or so

**MeatAndSarcasm:** lemme guess she broke it while breaking someone’s face

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** your roommate is seriously scary

**waterdropletKat:** she broke it at practice, yes. and toph’s not that bad. I just dont make her angry

**MeatAndSarcasm:** riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** because you’re SO good at not being annoying

**waterdropletKat:** im still alive, arent i

**MeatAndSarcasm:** good point

**waterdropletKat:** she really isnt that bad. Just…...intense

**MeatAndSarcasm:** she sure sounds intense

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** WAIT i have an idea

**waterdropletKat:** like…..a good idea, or a Sokka idea

**MeatAndSarcasm:** i take offense to that

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** anyway, my idea is, what if you explain our situation to Aang and ask if I can tag along? that way you still get to go, and i don't get my face rearranged by your crazy mma roommate

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** i’ll stay out of everyone’s way, i promise

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** i’ll just chill in the cafe or something

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** i’ll even pay

**waterdropletKat:** sokka you don't even have money

**MeatAndSarcasm:** ouch, but true

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** so…..what do you think?

**waterdropletKat:** hang on, i’ll ask aang

Katara hesitated before texting Aang. Sokka’s idea actually made sense, but she didn’t want to force Aang into anything. Not for the first time, Katara wished she could text her roommate and tell her the situation. But Toph’s phone had broken a few days ago, after the girl had forgotten to take it out of her pocket for practice, and it had gotten smashed by one of her opponents. Another phone was being sent by her parents, brand-new because they were rich and could easily afford the expense, but it wouldn’t reach their apartment for another few days.

In the meantime, she couldn’t let anyone into their apartment alone, lest Toph practice some of her American kickboxing on them.

She sighed and opened her and Aang’s chat.

**waterdropletKat:** hey, im sorry to put this on you last-minute, but can my brother come, too? His old roommate kicked him out of his apartment, and he needs a place to stay, but i cant let him be at my apartment without me because my roommate would think he had broken in. he promised to stay out of the way if you wanted this to just be us and your family.

Aang’s reply came a few minutes later with a cheerful _ding._

**TwinkleToedAvatar:** Yeah, that’s totally fine! Zuko’s friend is wanting to bring along one of her teammates as well, so that’ll work! Tell your brother that he's more than welcome to join us. Iroh would be happy to make more tea for everyone!

**waterdropletKat:** oh, really? Well that worked out perfectly, then!

 **waterdropletKat:** thank you so much, aang

 **waterdropletKat:** it really means a lot

**TwinkleToedAvatar:** no problem!

Katara returned to the conversation with Sokka.

**waterdropletKat:** he says you can come

 **waterdropletKat:** and he says you dont have to be “out of the way” if you dont want to. He’d be happy to let you join us

 **waterdropletKat:** apparently the friend that zuko invited is bringing someone, too

**MeatAndSarcasm:** wait, really?

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** im surprised he’s actually letting me tag along

**waterdropletKat:** aang is literally the nicest person on planet earth

 **waterdropletKat:** id be more surprised if he _didn’t_

**MeatAndSarcasm:** …..i guess i’ll see you there, then

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** and…….thanks

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** i know it’s been…...rough since Mom, well….

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** you know.

 **MeatAndSarcasm:** you’re doing so well, Kat. I know she’s proud of you.

Katara swallowed, feeling the press of tears. Losing her mother had been the hardest thing that had ever happened to her. It had nearly torn their family apart; Katara had done all she could to hold their fraying edges together.

Dad had done his best to support his two children, but he had been hit hard by Kya’s death. And so Katara had stepped forward to do all she could to help her father and brother. It was hard, supporting her family while still feeling empty and lost without her mother. Some days Katara wondered if it would be easier to just cut the strings and drift away from her family, create a new name, a new identity. She never would, though. Dad needed her. So did Sokka. And she needed them.

It still hurt. Every day, like barbs of steel sinking into her heart. It would never go away, that pain. Katara knew it wasn’t her mother’s fault, that Kya hadn’t wanted to get sick, that she never wanted to leave her husband and children behind. But…some small, dark part of Katara couldn’t help but wonder why her mother had abandoned her daughter, why she had abandoned them all.

There were times when Katara couldn’t help but feel as if she was all alone. She stood on the ballroom floor like a statue while everyone else twirled and spun around her. Abandoned and doomed to stay there in stasis as the unsympathetic music played on.

As she dressed to meet Aang and his friends, Katara prayed for a miracle. For change.

Perhaps she wouldn’t need to be abandoned anymore.

* * *

**The Survivor**

* * *

Suki has never believed in fate. She disliked the idea of some higher power dictating her entire life before she was even born.

But sometimes Suki couldn’t help but wonder if she was destined to be life’s proverbial punching bag. Of course, she wasn’t one to mope and moan about her problems, but it really did feel as if life was out to get her.

When Suki was a little girl, her father left. She didn’t even remember what he looked like.

When she was a teenager, her entire town had burned to the ground in a horrific fire. She’d lost friends, teachers, and her only sibling, Rangi. Suki’s little sister had been too afraid to leave her hiding place. Rangi became ashes along with the rest of their home.

Only a few years before Suki became a legal adult, her mother overdosed. Suki had found her in the bathroom of their small apartment, limp on the floor.

Suki was still a teenager when she buried the last of her immediate family.

She had no relatives who could--or would--take her. The foster families didn’t want her. They all wanted babies or young children. Not teenagers. Not broken, grieving girls who would soon be aged out of the system.

Sometimes Suki wondered if there was some higher power that she had somehow offended. Perhaps the burnt town, the ashes of her home, her mother and sisters’ bodies six feet in the ground, had all been for a reason.

Higher power--fate or otherwise--or not, Suki refused to let them break her. Her struggles _were_ for a reason, she determined.

She was all the stronger because of it. Suki was bent but not broken. She was tough, fast, smart. Suki was a survivor.

In college, life had finally started to look up. Suki was the captain of the all-girl martial arts team, the Kyoshi Warriors. She was a street racer, and had a friend in the motocross division.

And now, it seemed, she would be meeting Zuko’s family.

Suki laced up her boots, thinking back to the conversation from before. She and Zuko usually practiced together, or at least as much as they could when they were technically in two different sports. Motocross was a motorcycle race on dirt tracks, with hills and jumps and sharp turns, and street racing was, well, motorcycle races on pavement. They usually met in the same place, near dirt trails for Zuko and where Suki could easily use old roads to practice on. They rode individually, training on their respective surfaces before usually riding to the Jasmine Dragon together. Since they were both reserved by nature, and didn’t need to keep up a steady stream of conversation, it worked quite well for both of them. That day, Zuko had come late, after a rushed morning at the Jasmine Dragon. He’d approached Suki before their practice, bearing a question.

Suki had been pleased to accept, on the condition that she bring one of her friends along. Toph was one of Suki’s best fighters, but the girl rarely came to team gatherings. This was Suki’s attempt to help her teammate socialize more. With luck, Toph would be nice and _not_ try to break anyone’s arms.

Now Suki shrugged on her green-and-gold leather jacket and shot off a quick text to Zuko, letting him know she was on her way. She straddled her bike, pulled on her helmet, then revved the engine and took off down the street.

She knew the way to the Jasmine Dragon well; Suki went there often, and had already met Iroh, Gyatso, and Aang in passing. They seemed friendly enough, and Suki was excited to get to know them better.

As arranged, Suki swung by the arena to pick up Toph. The other girl had been putting in a few extra practice hours in the ring; it wouldn’t be long before she would be ready to qualify for the MMA.

Toph, hearing the familiar sound of Suki’s bike, stood from where she had been sitting on the front steps. She wore her green Kyoshi Warrior jacket over a cream-colored shirt; her long, thick hair was pulled up into its usual huge bun.

She walked toward Suki’s bike without problem; they were the only ones in the parking lot, so it wasn’t difficult at all for Toph to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.

The blind girl climbed on behind Suki, accepting the spare helmet she offered. The girls were off without a word between them.

They arrived a few minutes early, and Suki went about helping Gyatso sprinkle colorful sugar onto a new batch of sugar cookies. Aang was somewhere picking up his dance partner and her brother, but Zuko was heating some water for tea over the stove. Toph sat cross-legged on the stool at the tea bar, chatting amiably with Iroh as the older man gathered tea leaves and cups.

Suki wondered who Aang’s friends were, and what they were like. Surely they were at least halfway decent, because if they were jerks then Aang wouldn’t call them friends. She’d heard some of Aang’s ramblings about his dance partner from Zuko, who, when in the right mood, was endlessly chatty.

She didn’t have to wonder long. The bell jingled cheerily as Aang sailed inside, practically glowing with excitement. At his heels was a tall, dark-skinned girl with long, wavy tresses of brown tumbling down her back, and a taller boy who looked like her brother with his hair pulled back into a messy wolf tail.

Aang waved for everyone to gather around the tea bar. Introductions were made; the girl’s name was Katara, and her brother’s name was Sokka.

Suki hadn’t believed in fate, but now she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she and these people were somehow destined to meet at this time, at this place. Friendships that were fated to form, in any world, any reality. Friendships that transcend lifetimes and timelines.

It was strange, really, how fate brought them together. Toph, as it turned out, was Katara’s roommate that Suki had heard so much about. And Sokka was apparently the very same robotics major that several of Suki’s girls had had a crush on at some point. He had been very amused to learn that, if a little bashful.

Suki still didn’t believe in fate, not really. But she didn’t have any other good explanations as to how this group of six had found each other at this time, and in the most unlikely of ways. She didn’t have a good explanation as to why from that day on, they were inseparable, that group of six.

It could only have been fate.

But Suki decided she was all right with that.

* * *

**The** **Lost**

* * *

Sokka ducked to avoid the balled-up piece of paper. For a blind person, Toph had an _insanely_ good throwing arm. The paper ball sailed over him and smacked Aang full in the face just as he sat down at their study table. The force of the throw was so great that Aang’s chair fell backward; he let out a surprised cry as he fell back, his chair hitting the ground with a wooden clatter.

 _“Ssssshhhhhhhhhh,”_ the librarian hissed from where he sat at his desk. He was an old, owlish looking man with a pinched face and beady black eyes. Sokka had never seen him smile or wear anything other than the long black cloak he wore. Katara had suggested that he wore the cloak so he could float down the corridors like a bird. Sokka nearly snorted at the thought of the tall, thin librarian swooping down the hall like some giant, demented owl.

Aang picked his chair up with an apologetic smile toward the librarian, who was glowering in their direction. The old man finally turned his gaze away, and Sokka let out a sigh of relief; that old guy sure was creepy. Aang sat down, pulling out his books and spreading them out.

That fateful day in the Jasmine Dragon where they had all met had happened two weeks ago. In the time since, Sokka had found the greatest group of friends he had ever known. He’d begun to spend most of his time at the Jasmine Dragon, sipping tea and chatting with Aang and Gyatso during the slower, less busy times of day. Zuko never said much, but when he had down time he would usually sit with them and just listen. Iroh would tidy up the cafe, occasionally joining in their conversation.

Sokka still didn’t have an apartment to live in; his old roommate, Hahn, had never liked him, and threw Sokka out the moment he had an excuse to. As if it was _Sokka's_ fault that Hahn's now ex-girlfriend was leaving to join a crew of other astro-scientists heading for the moon! All Sokka did was encourage Yue to not let a sleazy mouth-breather like Hahn hold her back from her dreams. And apparently her dreams were landing on and studying the moon. In the time since he got kicked out, Sokka had been rooming with Katara, but he couldn’t very well live with his sister and her roommate for the rest of the semester. Even though he wasn’t in danger of being crushed by Toph anymore, now that she wouldn’t mistake him for a robber, he knew he couldn't stay for much longer. Although, she could definitely still snap him in half with her bare hands if she wanted to. Unfortunately, there were no other openings in any of the college dorms. The only open space was with Hahn, and there was no way Sokka was going back to room with that jerk. Not that Hahn would even let him in, anyway.

Sokka was broken from his musings by another paper ball, this one bouncing off his forehead. He yelped, raising a hand to the sore spot on his head. How did Toph throw them so hard?

 _“Be quiet,”_ the librarian growled from his perch.

Toph smirked in Sokka’s general direction. Her feet were propped up on Katara’s chair, her books scattered aimlessly. It was clear that, despite the fact that they were all here to study, no actual studying was happening. Toph kept throwing paper at everyone with an inhuman amount of force; Katara, in between turning pages of her nursing textbook, was flicking water from her water bottle at Aang, who was looking around in bewilderment to try and find where the rain was coming from. Zuko was pushing on Suki’s chair with his feet, slowly pushing her farther and farther away from the table. The girl in question seemed to be the only one who was actively _trying_ to study, and she was growing increasingly frustrated at the fact that her chair kept moving away from the table.

Sokka’s own brand of chaos took form as a smattering of doodles scattered over his papers. He had been trying to draw his group of friends, but Suki’s chair was gradually moving farther and farther away, and Toph moved every three seconds, between balling up papers and lobbing them at her friends.

It was awfully frustrating, when his muses _just wouldn't hold still._

Sokka had to find someone who hadn't moved in the last half hour. Someone who probably wouldn't move in the next day or so. His gaze scanned the room of college students, landing finally on the tall, owlish librarian. _Bingo._

He subtly shifted in his seat so he had a clear view of the man. From this angle, he looked even more like a wrinkled, wizened giant owl. It even looked like he had a beak.

As Sokka's ( _very_ accurate, mind you!) drawing spread out on the page, he could feel Zuko's eyes on him. To be honest, Sokka wasn't sure how to feel about the guy. He was very quiet, to the point of it being unnerving. Sokka wasn't sure if he just didn't know what to say, or if he had somehow done something that Zuko didn't like. The guy was obviously very close with Aang; they were roommates, and had been for years. He'd apparently known Suki for a long time, too. Around those two, he talked a lot. His voice was quiet and raspy, but it was animated and lively despite that. But around the rest of the group, he was nearly silent, only occasionally piping up to ask for someone to pass the sugar when they were at the Jasmine Dragon together.

Sokka just didn't know what to make of him. Maybe he was just really shy…..or maybe he hated Sokka's guts. Sokka didn't know if that was his anxiety talking or not. The guy never laughed around them; he hardly even smiled. Sokka had made it his personal mission to make Zuko smile. It was going to happen. Sometime. Eventually, one of Sokka's _hilarious_ jokes would finally make Zuko's stone exterior crack.

Zuko's gaze bore into the side of Sokka's head; it was so intense it felt like bolts of flame, or lightning.

Tentatively, Sokka turned. Zuko's brows were raised; he didn't look angry, just… curious.

Oh, this was going to be _glorious._

Adding the finishing touches, and with a devilish grin on his lips, Sokka covertly slid the drawing over to Zuko.

A beat passed. Then two.

Then Zuko _laughed._ It wasn't a cute little giggle, or even a chuckle. It was a loud, wheezing, _snorting_ cackle of pure mirth.

The librarian hissed in annoyance, but Sokka didn't hear; he was laughing, too. The rest of the table looked on in bewildered silence at the two boys, who were laughing with no sign of stopping.

Zuko's arms were folded on the table to hide the tears streaming down his face. Sokka was doubled over, holding his stomach. He didn't think he'd laughed this hard since...since his mom died.

They were just starting to calm down when a shadow loomed over them.

 _"You two are disrupting my peaceful atmosphere,"_ the librarian hissed, beady eyes flashing. _"You must leave immediately."_

Their friends watched in stunned silence as Zuko and Sokka slowly gathered their things. Toph looked like she was barely containing laughter; Aang's eyes were comically wide, like his parents were being carted off to prison before his eyes. Katara's face was red from trying not to laugh as her brother was very nearly dragged by his ears to the front door, and Suki just buried her face in her textbook and refused to look up.

"I refuse to acknowledge that," she grumbled. "We never should have introduced them. Zuko's an impulsive idiot, and Sokka's just an idiot. They're going to be the death of us all."

"In the meantime," Toph said, kicking up her feet on Suki's lap, "it will be _so much fun_ to watch."

Aang wrung his hands. "Do you think they'll be okay?" He asked.

Katara shrugged. "Sokka's been in worse scrapes before." She turned to the group. "Have I ever told you guys how he got two giant splinters in his thumb?"

Toph leaned forward, grinning wickedly. "Do tell."

"Well, he tried to get the first splinter out with the _second_ one!"

Their voices grew farther and farther away as the librarian ushered Sokka and Zuko to the doorway.

 _"Do not come back to my library until you have learned to control yourselves,"_ he snarled, arms raising menacingly. With the long, flowy sleeves, they almost looked like wings.

Sokka saluted. "Uh, sir, yes sir."

The librarian hissed--actually _hissed,_ like a cat--one more time to get his point across, then nodded in satisfaction and slammed the door in their faces.

Sokka's gaze slowly slid to Zuko, who was looking at Sokka. The moment their eyes met, they were both on the ground laughing, holding their stomachs with tears streaming down their faces. Only a few moments later, the others joined, having decided to end their "studying" session early since two of their members had been kicked out for "inappropriate misconduct in a place of academics and inner reflection," as Aang said the librarian's exact words were. Toph had shoved Sokka (how the heck was she able to tell where he was?) and proclaimed that she was going to be the one kicked out next time. Katara and Suki just looked at each other and sighed heavily, while Aang nudged Zuko with a giant grin.

"We'll make it a contest," he said. "You and Sokka against Zuko and I!"

Sokka, never one to take down a challenge, high-fived Toph and hollered, "You're _on!"_

They'd dissolved into laughter, a group of people in their twenties rolling on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

 _This,_ Sokka thought as he dried his tears, still chuckling. _This is all right._

For the longest time, Sokka had struggled. It's not easy, losing a parent. Sokka's entire life fell apart that day.

He remembered the funeral with burning clarity. Clusters of people gathered in a small chapel, wiping wet cheeks and dabbing at damp eyes. People standing up and talking, droning on about Kya's life and accomplishments. He remembered thinking that _none of it mattered, because he wanted his mom but she was gone._

Hakoda had sung a song at her graveside. Sokka didn't remember the words or the tune; all he remembered was the tears choking his father's voice as he sang.

He remembered people throwing clumps of earth onto a sky blue coffin. He remembered standing there, at his father and sister's side, as their mother was buried under six feet of cold, damp soil. He remembered his father sobbing over her headstone; Katara, still too young to fully understand, asking where Mommy was.

 _She's sleeping,_ Hakoda had said, pulling his children close. _She's sleeping._

Sokka had never really been the same after that. He'd tried to be there for Katara; before he'd left for college, he could hear her crying herself to sleep every night. He tried to help her, tried to be the goofy, weird older brother who could make Katara laugh when nobody else could.

Sokka sometimes forgot that...sometimes he needed help, too.

And there, laughing until he cried with his new friends, Sokka realized that he had found it. He had been lost for so long...but not anymore.

_If you're watching, Mom….I hope you're proud._

**********

It was the next day at the Jasmine Dragon when the next miracle came. Sokka was sitting on a circle of couches with Suki, Katara, and Toph. Aang and Zuko were working the shop alongside their uncles and adoptive fathers, bustling about and serving customers. Toph was sitting cross-legged with her feet pulled up onto the couch, clutching a cup of tea with both hands and sipping. Katara and Suki were engaged in a conversation about upcoming street races and dance routines.

Sokka was rifling through a stack of papers, trying to find any dorm that had an opening. He wasn’t having much luck so far. It was the middle of the semester; everyone already had a place to live, and the dorms were full.

Katara had offered to let him live in her dorm for the rest of the semester, but Sokka had turned her down. It was too crowded with three people, and Sokka felt guilty for making his little sister pick up the slack to take care of him. He could take care of himself.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t find anywhere to live--unless he wanted to take shelter beneath a bridge in a cardboard box.

 _Hahn would love that,_ Sokka grumbled to himself. The words on the documents were beginning to blur before his exhausted eyes; he set the papers down and scrubbed both hands down his face. His wolf tail had come out, so his hair hung down around his face in a curtain of brown. He tangled his fingers in his hair in exasperation; he’d looked at every single possibility, but there was nowhere to go.

“Having trouble there, Sokka?”

Sokka jumped and turned to see Iroh standing by their table, eyes crinkling at the corners in a kind smile. He carried a tray of teacups, which he set down in front of each of them. Toph crowed in triumph and picked up the refill of tea; the other girls smiled and thanked Iroh.

The old man slid into the seat next to Sokka. “I heard from Zuko that you are needing a place to live.”

Sokka vaguely remembered talking out his options with Katara earlier at the group’s study meeting at the library. He hadn’t known Zuko had been paying any particular attention.

He sighed. “Yeah. My old roommate kicked me out, and I haven’t been able to find a new place since.”

Iroh hummed, pouring out two cups of tea. The steam curled toward the ceiling as he offered a cup to Sokka, who accepted it with thanks.

“For a time, Gyatso and I had all the help we needed,” Iroh began, sipping his tea. “Aang and Zuko are excellent employees. But the cafe is steadily increasing in popularity, and we are now shorthanded. There are simply too many customers for us to handle easily.” Iroh turned to Sokka, his gold eyes regarding Sokka’s blue. “I have a proposition for you, if you’re interested.”

**********

“So, let me get this straight,” Katara grumbled, heaving one of Sokka’s suitcases down the flight of stairs. “You’re going to go live at the cafe so you can work there? What are you gonna do, sleep in the booth?”

“They have an apartment above the cafe, Katara,” Sokka sighed, struggling with his other suitcase. “Iroh says they need the help, and I need a place to live, so it works out. We agreed: I won’t get paid for the first month of work, to pay them for their hospitality. After that, I’ll get a cut of the paycheck so I can eventually move out again.” With a grunt and a heave, Sokka set the suitcase down on the landing, wiped sweat from his brow, and glanced up at Katara. “This arrangement is just to hold me over until I can find an actual dorm to stay in.”

Katara huffed as she reached the same landing. “What…do you _have_ in here, anyway?”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that every single thing I possess is packed into these two suitcases?”

Katara rolled her eyes. “I’m sure. I don’t even want to know how you fit everything in here.”

“Trust me,” Sokka said, preparing to go down the next flight. “You do _not.”_

* * *

**The Unseen**

* * *

The air was filled with the rumble of engines. There were people all around; Toph could hear them chattering, feel them brushing up against her in the crowd.

It was the first street race of the season, and Toph and her friends were all there to watch Suki ride. Although Toph couldn’t “watch” anything, technically. But she was never one to conform to technicalities, anyway. Besides, she didn’t have to see to sense the raw, palpable excitement in the air. It was almost electric in its intensity; she was surrounded by people who loved to race.

Their group of friends were weaving through the crowd, if their erratic pattern around clusters of people meant anything. Toph was clinging to Katara’s sleeve so she wouldn’t get lost; Toph was more than capable of handling herself, of course, but the crowd was so thick that even someone who had working eyes could easily get lost. There was so much noise that she didn’t think she’d be able to hear her phone if someone called her, either. All the more reason to stay together. Katara was almost definitely holding onto whoever was in front of her, which made Toph feel a lot better.

It made Toph a little uneasy, being in the thick of a crowd like that. People were bumping into her from all sides, and she couldn’t even hear them coming; there was so much noise that it was all a general din. There was no way to pick out individual sound from the mix. Even worse, her white cane was useless when there were so many people pushing into each other; if she tried to use it, she just got all turned around.

Thankfully, their little group broke out from the crowds, and Toph sighed in relief as space opened up around her; even the noise dulled down to where she could hear Katara’s bright laughter and even Zuko’s quiet, rumbling chuckle. Toph gratefully pulled the folded cane from her jacket pocket, flicking it to unfold the cane into its full size. Moving around got much easier after that, though Toph still kept hold of Katara’s sleeve. A moment later, she realized where they were when she heard Suki’s voice. They must be in the area where racers prepared their bikes. Only family was allowed in the racer’s area; Suki apparently considered each of them as such.

It smelled strongly of metal and gasoline. It was still loud here, with racers calling out to their crews and each other, and officials rushing about, distinguishable by the jingling of keys that accompanied their steps, ensuring that everyone’s machines were working properly.

They followed Suki’s voice; Toph could hear her talking with someone, a man with a deep voice. He jingled when he moved, so Toph figured he must be one of the officials with their noisy key rings.

“The eighteenth turn will have you hanging a right, which will bring you to the river. Once you cross the bridge, it’s another right, then a left, then a straight shot to the finish.” They must have been going over a map, if the crinkling of paper as he spoke was anything to go by.

“Sounds good,” Suki said. “Thanks; I just wanted to double check that I knew the course.”

“No problem at all,” the official said. He sounded jovial and friendly. “I’m happy to help!”

Toph heard the jangle of keys as the official walked away.

“Hey, guys!” Suki said, her voice coming from right in front of them. “You came!”

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Katara said. Toph was close enough to hear the faint rustle of clothing as the girls embraced.

Sokka let out a low whistle. “So, this is your ride, huh? Pretty sweet.”

Toph shrugged, unimpressed. “I don’t know, I think I liked the one I saw back there better.”

Sokka let out an offended sound. “Come on, Toph, Suki’s bike is _so_ much better--oh. Ha ha, very funny.”

Toph cackled, punching him hard in the shoulder. “I thought it was funny.”

“How can you tell where I am?” Sokka cried in exasperation, likely rubbing his arm where she had punched him.

“You’re loud,” Katara cut in, sounding amused. “Anyone could find you in a crowd.”

Sokka huffed. “Betrayed by my own blood,” he grumbled.

“I’m half deaf and I can _still_ always hear you,” Zuko said, his rasping voice easily distinguishable above the rest, light with humor.

Toph frowned. “Wait, you’re half deaf?”

“Yeeaaaaahhhhhh,” Zuko murmured, slowly drawing out the word. “It’s, you know...my scar?”

Toph whipped her head around in his direction. _“You have a scar?!?”_

“O- _kay!”_ Aang exclaimed before Zuko had to find a reply to that. “Moving on! Suki, where’s the best place to watch you race?”

“Up top, by the bluffs,” Suki replied. “You can see almost the whole course from there.”

“Great!” Aang said, cheerful as always. “We’ll head up there, then!”

There was more rustling fabric as Suki embraced each of her friends. When she got to Toph, the blind girl could feel the smooth, supple leather of Suki's jacket. 

“Good luck!” Katara called as they began to move away.

They climbed the hill, Toph’s cane clattered rhythmically against the stone steps so she didn’t trip.

The early summer sun beat down on their little group as they climbed; Sokka and Aang were keeping up a steady stream of chatter, and Katara laughed occasionally at something they said. Zuko kept quiet, walking at Toph's side; he was so quiet, in fact, that she could only tell he was there from the occasional brushing of his leather jacket sleeve against her bare arm.

Before long, the steps evened out into what seemed like a stone path that supposedly overlooked the race course. Not that Toph could tell.

"Woah!" Aang exclaimed from somewhere far ahead. "This is amazing!"

Toph paused at the top, inhaling and exhaling deeply. She may not have her sight, but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate her surroundings. The wind was cool and pleasant, combating the heat of the sun. Birds called to each other, their echoing cries carrying on the wind. Toph could sense the open space around her, and the feeling of being on top of the world.

Beside her, Zuko breathed deeply.

"This is nice," he murmured.

Toph shrugged in response. "Eh. The arena's better. Less open space, less chance of me blundering off a cliff. Not that I'd ever do that, but who knows? It could happen to any of you."

"If anyone here has a chance of blundering off a cliff, it's probably Katara," Sokka said.

"I'm a dancer," Katara retorted. "I don't even trip. And don't think I've forgotten that time you tried to slide down the staircase railing and ended up breaking your arm. If anyone is going to fall off that cliff, it's you."

"When did Sokka break his arm? When he was three?" Toph asked teasingly. It certainly sounded like something a young child would do. Especially a young Sokka.

"Last year," Katara deadpanned.

Zuko let out a surprised chuckle; Toph cackled gleefully.

Sokka let out an offended noise; there was the sound of someone being pushed. Katara let out an indignant "Hey!" 

"Come on, guys, stop fighting," Aang broke in, ever the peacemaker. "Suki's race is about to start."

The group of friends gathered at the edge of the cliff, presumably overlooking the starting line. Toph could feel the wind coming from below them, blowing the escaping strands from her bun away from her face. She was pressed into the guardrail as her friends clamored to get a good view; the metal was cold against her skin, but she enjoyed the reassuring firmness of it. Despite her earlier bravado, Toph really did worry about tripping over something and falling over the edge.

Sokka was talking loudly, and Aang was cheering. Toph elbowed whoever was next to her; from the quiet grunt, it turned out to be Zuko.

"Get them to be quiet," Toph said. "I can't hear."

Sokka and Aang quieted down with murmured apologies; now that they were quieter, Toph could hear the faraway rumble of engines and the faint burble of someone speaking through a microphone, though they were too far away to make out words.

A moment later, there was the sound of several dozen engines revving. A blasting horn sounded, making Toph jump, and then the engines roared as the motorcycles began the race.

Toph obviously couldn't tell what was happening, but she enjoyed the race anyway. The roaring engines, the cheers and shouts of her friends, and the palpable excitement in the air made up for the fact that she couldn't see.

Sokka was keeping up a running commentary like a sports announcer; Toph couldn't tell if he was doing so for her benefit or because he was enjoying himself. Likely both.

"And the guy with the stupid orange helmet races ahead--but Suki swings around the sharp turn and cuts him off! Yass queen!"

"Shouldn't a sports announcer be unbiased?" Aang wondered, and Toph laughed.

Sokka scoffed. "Unbeliever! I'll have you thrown off the cliff!"

"How are you expected to lift him with your little stick arms?" Katara teased.

"I do _not_ have stick arms!" Sokka protested. "Zuko has stick arms!"

"I race motocross, and I can sword fight." Zuko replied. "I don't have stick arms."

"Toph?" Sokka tried.

In answer, she slugged him in the arm. "Nope!" She said, popping the "p."

"Come on, Aang, I know _you_ have stick arms," Sokka insisted.

"I guess it looks like it," Aang said, considering. "But some of our dance routines require me to lift Katara above my head. I really don't think I'd be able to do that with stick arms."

Sokka paused. "Wait...you lift my sister?"

Katara laughed. "Sometimes he throws me."

Toph could _feel_ Sokka's righteous anger radiating from him. She patted his elbow. "Calm down, Aang can take care of your sister." She paused. "After all, he _doesn't_ have stick arms."

Sokka huffed. "Rude." 

There was a faint cheer from far down below, and Sokka gasped dramatically, falling back into his sports announcer persona.

“Oh, what’s this? Could it be? Suki has pulled ahead in the last hundred meters of the race! If she hurries, she can pass that last racer--oh. Well.”

“She got second,” Katara said, leaning past Toph. “Whoever was in front of her was really good, though.”

Sokka was raging. “Anarchy! Desolation! How dare he!”

“It’s just a race, Sokka,” Aang said, trying to console him.

“He. Cheated,” Sokka hissed.

“He… really didn’t,” Zuko murmured. “I was watching for that. He obeyed the rules to the letter.”

“If I was in a motorcycle race,” Toph said, “I would _absolutely_ cheat.”

“I know _you_ would,” Sokka huffed. “Come on, let’s go back down there. Suki’s probably waiting for us.”

Toph turned and began making her way back to the stairs. Nobody tried to help her, which she appreciated. Here, where there were no huge crowds of people pushing and shoving, Toph was perfectly capable of handling herself. Just the way she liked it.

Her parents hadn’t seen it that way. To rich, famous politicians, having a blind daughter apparently had the potential to ruin their reputations. Toph’s mother and father had hidden her away from the world “for her protection,” so few people actually knew that Toph was one of _those_ Beifongs. Toph didn’t think even Katara, her roommate of nearly six months, knew who her parents were. She hardly minded, though.

To Lao and Poppy Beifong, Toph wasn’t as much a daughter as she was a delicate vase. Put on display when there was company, and hidden away when there was nobody to see. So she wouldn’t break.

Toph hadn’t run away in the technical sense; it would be an easy thing to hack into her money records, or her college enrollment to see where she was. But Toph had left a note on her computer that read _I can’t live like this anymore. I know I’m more than just your weak, insignificant daughter. If you try and send anyone after me, I will disappear. Forever._

She was pretty sure she remembered putting in a few more cuss words, but that was the gist of it. And her parents had not sent anyone, save for a messenger. They wanted her to know that she was always welcome back home for when-- _when_ \--she changed her mind.

That was just more reason for her to _never_ change her mind. Toph was her own person. She didn’t need or want her parents making all the decisions for her, telling how to feel and think and live.

That’s why Toph was training on Suki’s martial arts team. She was going to the MMA, and she was going to be the best fighter in the world.

 _Just try and “protect” me then,_ Toph thought smugly.

She refused to go unseen for any longer.

* * *

**The Rejected**

* * *

If Zuko had been the recipient of more love and affection in his life, he might have had a better idea of how to react when he suddenly went from having two uncles and an adopted brother to a half dozen tired college students who called themselves his friends. He had two roommates now; he hadn’t been sure how to feel about Sokka at first, but after their misadventure at the library, Zuko didn’t mind his loud, dramatic antics all that much. He’d already known Suki fairly well, so there wasn’t much that was odd about spending time with her in their group outings. Toph, Zuko decided, was a gremlin who reveled in chaos. They got along pretty well; Toph seemed content to hang back and chill with Zuko when she wasn’t out and about wreaking havoc. Katara was as kind as Aang’s stories led to believe, though Zuko had been able to tell right away that she wasn’t someone he wanted to anger.

Iroh, of course, adored them all; whenever Sokka would sail through the doors, chiming out a cheery hello, or Toph or Katara or Suki, he would brighten like someone had brought him a cake and flowers.

Gyatso had taken a liking to them all as well, particularly Toph; and Zuko thought Gyatso and _Bumi_ was a bad combination. He had to check his sheets for shaving cream and his door for buckets of water whenever Toph and Gyatso got to talking. They’d short sheeted his bed once.

Zuko shuddered to imagine what it would be like if Toph, Gyatso, _and_ Bumi all met up. He suspected the only result would be anarchy.

He was drawn from his thoughts by someone poking his arm.

“Hey, are you bored?” Sokka mumbled to him. “‘Cause I’m bored.”

They were waiting for Aang and Katara to finish practicing their routine so they could all go study together. Tryouts for regionals were coming up fast, and so the two dancers were practicing rigorously to perfect their routine.

Zuko actually liked watching them dance; it was like watching someone perform onstage. A wordless story told by two people who loved to dance.

He didn’t recognize the song they were dancing to, but he could still appreciate their skill. He watched as Katara fell backward, stiff as a board yet still fluid as water. Aang caught hold of her arm before she hit the ground and pulled her back upright and into a spin.

They complimented each other, played off each other. It was more than a dance. It was a story.

“No,” Zuko said finally, softly so he wouldn’t break Aang and Katara out of their concentration. “I’m not bored.”

Sokka wrapped his arms around his knees, eyes on the dancing couple. “They’re just…moving around.”

Zuko shook his head. “You just have to watch. Like, _really_ watch.” He hesitated, then said, “It’s like a play, or a song. They’re telling a story, if you listen.”

Sokka’s blue gaze slid to Zuko. “You have a lot of ideas on how this works,” he said. A sly grin crossed his face. “Do you dance?”

Zuko blinked in surprise. “Uh, not really? I…just think it’s cool.”

Sokka grinned and stood up. “We should show them how it’s done!”

Zuko raised his eyebrows. “They’ve been practicing for months,” he pointed out. “There’s no way we can outdance them.”

Sokka wiggled his eyebrows. “Not unless we do… _this!”_

He started waving his arms and swaying from side to side, turning in circles.

Zuko chuckled in equal parts surprise and amusement; it turned to full-blown laughing when Sokka started swooning and exaggerating his movements even more; now he nearly bent in half with the swaying, and his arms looked more like noodles than arms.

Aang and Katara, distracted by Zuko’s laughter, paused, and they, too, began to laugh.

Zuko wasn’t sure how Sokka managed to make everyone laugh, as if it was easier than breathing. It was always hard for Zuko to do that; Uncle Iroh always laughed at his jokes, but that was because he was Iroh, and he would support Zuko no matter what. Even when he made terrible jokes that weren’t funny at all.

“Sokka, stop,” Aang laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “We need to practice!”

Sokka did stop, planting his hands on his hips with a pout. “You don’t appreciate my dance skills?”

“What skills?” Katara teased.

Sokka gasped in mock offense, but before he could protest, Zuko grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the practice room door.

“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder. “We’ll leave so you can work.”

“No funny business!” Sokka called before the door clicked shut, cutting off Katara’s outraged squawk.

Suki and Toph were waiting out in the foyer when they exited the practice room; the former met Zuko’s eyes and exchanged an eye roll, and the latter threw a balled-up piece of paper at Sokka.

“Where do you even _get_ those?” Sokka protested, rubbing his forehead. There was a red mark from all the times Toph hit him there.

“My textbooks,” Toph replied with a smirk.

Sokka threw the ball back at Toph, who of course didn’t see it coming. It smacked into her cheek; she picked it back up and made to throw it back at Sokka, but Suki tapped her arm.

“Now, now, children,” she sighed. “Play nice.”

Toph harrumphed and sat down, crossing her arms. Sokka did the same, turning away from Toph with a pout.

Zuko and Suki exchanged another eye roll.

He never thought in a million years that he would find something like this. His childhood had been ten different kinds of messed-up, and even though he’d escaped that, some small part of Zuko wondered if he would ever find normal. Whatever “normal” was.

Aang and Katara finished their rehearsal and joined them outside; in a cluster of bodies and laughter and warmth, they left the studio and headed for the library.

It was strange, really, how quickly he had come to accept these strangers as family. Each of them were broken in their own ways; life was a disaster, an earthquake or flood or fire, and it left none untouched. Yet they were altogether more whole; their broken pieces somehow fit together in a jagged, misshapen puzzle that spoke of family of choice; of trial and fire, of love and friendship and support that he had never felt before.

Zuko still wasn’t entirely sure what to do with such a gift; he felt like he was carrying stacks of china dishes. One misstep and it would all come crashing down. He was terrified of losing the first real friends he’d ever had.

But as Aang slung an arm around his shoulders, and Toph nudged his side with her elbow, and Suki laughed as Katara sloshed her water bottle toward Sokka, Zuko let himself smile. _This is all right._

He’d been rejected, once, in the worst possible way. He still had nightmares sometimes of horrible heat, so hot he thought his face might melt away from his skull. Aang didn’t know about the nightmares; Zuko had learned to cry silently long ago. He still couldn’t look his reflection in the eye, most days.

Now he had Iroh and Gyatso and Aang. He had Sokka and Katara and Toph and Suki.

And he was happy.

* * *

**The After**

* * *

A few blocks from the campus of Kyoshi University, on the corner of Oma Avenue and Shu Street, sits a little tea shop and cafe. Though it’s popular among students and citizens alike, very few know the actual tale of the shop.

It’s a story of six, and a story of two, and a story of eight. Two brothers with a dream. Six strangers bound by fate. And eight who built a home together, not from wood or concrete but from each other. From laughter and love and understanding and bonds stronger than blood.

Was it fate? Was it destiny, how these people met in the most unassuming of ways, at the most unassuming of times?

We may never know, and neither will they.

But we do know the story of the six. The tale of friendship, of love, of family. The tale of The Remembered, The Cherished, The Warrior, The Found, The Seen, and The Accepted. The story of how they came together to be a little more whole.

It is tales like these that some may say are too good to be true. Pure fantasy, or wishful thinking.

They _are_ too good to be true, but that certainly doesn’t mean that they never happened.

So find a comfortable chair. A cozy blanket, a mug of cocoa. This tale of eight is only just beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing in a blind character's POV is always a fun little challenge :) I'm sorry if I misrepresented in any way! Please let me know if I did!
> 
> Can't believe I just wrote an entire fic with only minimal angst. I'm so proud of myself, y'all. Pretty sure I projected onto every single character at least once, though :/ it do be like that sometimes
> 
> I really had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all had fun reading it as well!! Comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> Shoutout to my brother-in-law who helped make the motorcycle idea work! You're all right I guess ;)
> 
> This was originally going to be a stand-alone oneshot, but I've fallen in love with this au, so expect more to come! If you have any requests on what you might like to see later in this au, DM me with your idea and I'll maybe write it at some point ;)
> 
> For updates on fics, answers to questions, suggestions for oneshots, or just chatting and hanging out, come check out my writing blog! You can find it [HERE!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/firedragonworks) Come yell at me!!


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